Wanted

Chapter 22

Frankie

The only thingmissing from this adoption event is a red carpet. The organized chaos is well thought and well executed from years of practice.

Jude and Lee manage the heavy lifting and stay away from the public eye as much as possible while Aiden and Corjan charm their potential adopters. According to Whitney, Jack runs in between, depending on his mood.

Cortney and Juniper standby for health or behavior questions, and Nancy helps package everything and handles the payment. Each dog leaves with a packet of their history, my drawing, and a doggie cookie.

I can tell this isn’t their first rodeo. Their white tent on Main Street is hopping.

Even though some are just here to see some cute dogs, many are eager to adopt their new best friend. It’s clear that what the Powells have built is not only functioning but is also well needed in this small town.

I duck outside for a breath of fresh air and find Whitney and Bree at a nearby picnic table with their brood. The kids chase one another in the grass, leaving squeals of laughter in their wake.

“What do you think?” Bree asks as I sit, throwing a blueberry into her mouth.

I grab a pineapple from the tray I cubed his morning. The sweetness explodes on my tongue. “It’s amazing. After spending time at the Sanctuary, it’s so incredible to see everyone’s hard work pay off.”

“Your drawings are a huge hit,” she adds. “You’re really talented.”

“I had a lot of fun making them.”

Maybe someone will reach out and ask me to commission something. That would be a step toward my independence.

Whitney pats the small swell of her stomach and reaches across us, plucking a strawberry from the tray. “This is a huge hit too. Thank you. Chasing these kids around has me famished.”

“Maybe if you’d sit down and take a load off I can do some chasing around.”

Whitney waves her hand in the air. “It’s fine. It’s just those extra calories I need making me hungry. I already asked Jack to take me to The Rocks for lunch. I’m craving a famous Ruben burger something fierce.”

I laugh at the wild look in her eye. “Want me to walk down the street and get you one now?”

“Would you? I have a twenty in my purse in the back of the tent.”

“I can cover it. I’ll be right back.”

The total time to retrieve her pregnancy craving and get back takes about half an hour. The task helps keep me busy when I’m not needed anywhere else. The tent is crowded with Powells and adopters, so this gives me something to do while still remaining involved.

A small group is gathered around the picnic table on my return, most visible among them Jude. He scowls beneath the bright sun, and I grin as he pulls the plastic bag from my hand and gives it to Whitney without looking at her.

“Did you have to go alone?” he rasps, only loud enough for me to hear. The tense line of his posture gives away his desire to pull me into his arms. He has to be the one to make the first move in front of his family. Even though I want nothing more than to rise up on my tiptoes and kiss him.

“It was a short walk. You didn’t have to worry.”

He breathes in deeply and exhales through his nose, pinning me with his silver glare. “I can’t always help it.”

He means his compulsion. Somehow I know that’s what he’s trying to say. A crack forms in my heart at the unnecessary worry I caused.

“You okay in there?”

“It’s a busy one.” He flashes a rare Jude smile. “It feels good, giving the dogs their piece of forever.”

I wonder what he thinks about finding his own piece of forever. Because the more time I spend here with him, the more I have my own answer.

“Franklynn.”

That name said in that craggy voice settles like a rock in my stomach. I turn around woodenly, searching for the source.

“Mom? What are you doing here?”

Oh my god. She looks… she looks terrible. I slowly close my eyes as if she’ll be gone when I open them. I’m not that lucky. She looks at me expectantly, but I don’t know what she might be waiting for.

Looking at my mother is like peering into a mirror eighty years in the future, despite the fact she’s only fifty-two. Years of substance abuse haven’t been kind to her. We’re nearly the same height, with the same brown eyes and straight nose, hers droopy with age. Where my hair is fair, hers used to be a dark brown, but now the dry strands are nearly entirely gray.

Those walls Jude’s unintentionally broken down build back up in her presence until all I feel when I look at her is pity.

Jude stiffens at my side, following my line of sight to the people exiting the adoption tent. Only then do I register that she isn’t alone.

Because of course she freaking isn’t. Only one person from my past knew I was in this town, and for the second time he’s managed to track me down.

Dillon stands beside her, looking nearly as bad as my mother. His naturally coiled red hair falls flat against his head. His skin appears more pallid than ever. Dark purple circles ring his eyes, as if he hasn’t had a good nights sleep in months. He stands stooped with his hands shoved into the pockets of his dirty, dark blue jeans. The ways he’s transformed in a short couple of weeks are startling.

But then he smiles an arrogant grin, proving he hasn’t really changed, and I feel nothing but pity for him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask again, walking away from the picnic table near the Powell kids until she and Dillon follow. We stop a couple of feet away on the sidewalk. Far enough from the tent not to interfere with the adoption event, yet close enough for Bree and Whitney to witness.

“I couldn’t remember how to get ahold of you.” Her eyes dart around the street. She smiles, showcasing a missing top right tooth.

“Why would you need to get ahold of me?”

“It’s your dad. He isn’t well.”

“What do you mean he isn’t well? Is he dying?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“I-I’m not sure. He’s been sick for a while, and we don’t have any money for the doctor. The clinic refuses to see him because of too many unpaid bills.”

A pit opens up beneath my ribs.

“Then take him to a hospital.”

“They just turn him away.”

“That’s what happens when you spend twenty years going there to score pills.”

“Please, Franklynn. I need your help.”

“I can’t help you, Mom.” I sigh, forcing away the sadness threatening me. “Why can’t you help? You managed to drive her all the way here,” I direct at Dillon. If he wanted to insert himself into my family business, then he has some things to answer for.

He holds up both hands in a placating gesture. “I don’t have any money either.”

“What happened to the fancy new job you were heading off to?”

A fire flares to life in his eyes. “The job fell through because of you.”

“Me?” I step forward, and Jude clamps his hand around my wrist. His touch sears a warning into my skin. “That job had nothing to do with me. It was all your plan.”

“It had everything to do with you!” Dillon explodes, surging closer.

Jude promptly puts himself in Dillon’s path and moves me behind him.

“Close enough, Dillybar.”

He curls his lip at Jude. “It’s Dillon. Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m her man.” Jude’s voice fills with pride. If I weren’t in the middle of this midday reality show drama, I’d kiss the shit out of him for the public declaration.

“This fuck is your boyfriend?”

“No, Dilbert. That would imply that I’m anything like you. I”m not. You”re the last boyfriend she”ll ever have. Now she only dates men, and right now, that man is me.”

Dillon turns to me, rage painting his face a bright shade of red. “You’re going to let him talk to me like that?”

I shrug. “Why not? It’s not like you’ve done anything to deserve any respect.”

“I did everything for you!” he shouts. I don’t need to look around to know he’s drawing attention.

“Back the fuck up. I’m not going to tell you again,” Jude snarls.

“Cut the shit,” I snap. “Why are you both really here?”

My mother steps closer, tears glistening in her eyes. The watery look sends shock pulsing through me. I can’t remember a time I ever saw her cry. “We really do need the money. It’s been hard since you left. We can’t pay the bills, and now your father is sick. You promised to send us something when you started your new job, but you haven’t.”

I lick my lips at the accusation. “I don’t remember making that promise.”

I truly don’t. It would have been before I left town, so I should remember. Unless that’s what Dillon and I fought about. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of me sending money back home, and he refused to let me help them. I can’t see that being the reason I’d throw myself out of a car.

Her eyes flash. “But you did. We’re really struggling without you.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything to give you.”

“Honey.” My mother trails her eyes over Jude. “Things were much better when you were home. I-I don’t know how we’re going to make it without your help.”

I cringe at the awkward term of endearment. A dry tickle irritates my throat. I wish I had a drink right about now to soothe the discomfort.

“This is ridiculous. Frankie, it’s time to come home,” Dillon argues.

“That’s enough!” Jude growls, moving in front of me again. “The two of you have pled your case. You’ve heard her answer and now it’s time for you to go.”

“I don’t even know who you are,” Mom says, leaning into Jude’s space without an ounce of fear.

“I could say the same to you,” Jude bites out. His hand wraps around mine, an iron band shackling me to him.

“Her father is dying!”

“You said you didn’t know if he was dying,” I point out.

“Well he is! It’s only a matter of time because I can’t afford to take care of him. Imagine losing the love of your life because someone couldn’t show you a little kindness.”

“Imagine”—I shove my way around Jude, pulling free from his grip—“losing your parents because they were too selfish to ever put your needs above theirs.”

“How dare you.”

“Do you want to know the hardest part about having you as my mother?” Tears burn my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks at the smallest provocation. When she doesn’t answer, I continue.

“You gave me all your features, so I had to spend my life learning how to love them on my face while I hated them on yours. Every twisted insult on your lips, every drugged-out expression, for the longest time, that’s all I’d see when I’d look in the mirror. It took a long time to look past it and love myself.”

“For God’s sake, Frankie—”

“And I’m not about to let you come here and take away all my progress.”

“I’m not asking for that much.”

“You are! By just coming here with him”—I point a finger at Dillon—“you are asking for way too much.”

“I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t serious,” she says softly. “He was the only one who knew how to find you.”

Her tone stops me. For the first time in a decade, I feel like I’m actually hearing my mom. Why does she always manage to put me in this situation? The second I’m finally doing what’s best for me, she finds a way to lay on the guilt.

“Even if I could help you, which I can’t, I won’t have anything to do with him.” I jerk my thumb at Dillon.

“You and I get our turn next, Frankie,” Dillon spits.

“You need to come home,” Mom interjects.

“Shut up! She’s not going anywhere with either of you.” Jude glares at them.

“I’ll handle it.” I grimace at admitting that I need to handle my own mother. As I turn to look at Jude, I notice the wide audience we’ve attracted.

“Jude, please.” I elbow his ribs as shame coats my insides, but he doesn’t budge, continuing his staring contest with Dillon.

“It’s time to come home where you belong, Frankie.”

“You have no idea about where I belong.” I hate the shake in my voice. The way it weakens my argument. Having this scene unfold in front of half the town sweeps the feeling of belonging right out from beneath my feet. I can only imagine the gossip that will be spreading around by nightfall.

“Well, it sure as hell isn’t here!” Dillon gestures at our audience. “I mean, look at yourself,” he sneers. “You think these people can’t tell you’re a complete fraud? We aren’t like them.”

I know I shouldn’t believe him, but he’s not wrong. Wasn’t I just thinking the same thing? The Powells might have all been raised in shitty situations like mine, but they all found a way to leave them.

“Speak to her like that again, and I’m going to knock your ass out.”

“Jude!” I push my hand into his chest, forcing him back. He doesn’t budge, not a freaking inch. He tips his chin, looking down his nose at me, and I feel so small beneath his steely glare.

“Hands off, baby. I’m done listening to him insult you.”

“I told you I could handle it,” I bite out.

Jack jogs over, stopping at our side. “Everything okay?” He directs his own glare at my mom and Dillon.

“We’re leaving.” Dillon lunges for my arm. His fingers twist around my cast, and the contact startles me backward. I trip over my own feet and land on the ground on my ass. Pain rockets through my hip and up my side. I watch in horror as Jude powers forward, his hands curled into rock-hard fists, and he surges toward Dillon. Jack moves straight into his twin’s chest, blocking his advance. Dillon stumbles back in fear before righting himself and brushing his hands over his chest with an arrogant grin.

Something inside me breaks at the volatile scene. The flood of emotions forces the tears from my eyes. I wipe them off with the back of my hand as I stand.

“Do you have a hundred dollars?” I ask Jack, my voice flat.

He turns his chin into his shoulder, breaking eye contact with Jude. “I do.”

“Can I please have it?”

With one final shove into his brother’s chest, he digs out his wallet but Jude gets there first. He thrusts a $100 bill into my open palm with uncertainty in his eyes.

“There’s an envelope of money in the kitchen. The cabinet above the fridge. You can take enough to pay yourself back.”

Dillon’s smug grin grows, and my mother eyes the bill in my hand like she knows it’s the ticket to her next fix.

And you know what? I no longer fucking care.

“I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses,” Dillon says.

“You think I’m some piece of property you can show up and piss on, but you don’t own me anymore.” I slap the bill into my mother’s hand. “That’s it. That’s all I have. Take it and go home.”

“I knew I could count on you.”

“Don’t ever come back. I’m done.”

A hand lands heavy on my shoulder, and I whirl and shrug it off. “Don’t.”

Jude’s fingers curl into fists at his sides, and his shoulders rise with his heavy breaths. Those gray eyes that normally tell so much study me behind shuttered walls.

“I told you when we first met that I’m not some damsel.”

“I don’t…” He clears his throat. “I don’t think you’re some damsel.”

“Then when I say I can handle it, you have to trust that I can.”

“He was threatening you.”

I throw my hands up, completely overwhelmed and mortified by the last twenty minutes. “I don’t give a shit!”

More people arrive then, our audience moving closer as they sense a shift. One of the girls wraps her arm around me. I don’t see who it is before I bury my face in her neck.

“You’re okay. Let it out, Frankie,” Whitney coos, her cheek resting against the crown of my head.

I hiccup against her, and my shoulders buck.

“What do you need?”

“I just need to go home.”

The air around me grows wired.

I pull my face free, wiping the streaks on my cheeks with my sleeve. “Not home, home. I just need somewhere I can be alone,” I plead with her.

A few beats of silence pass as she stares at Jack over my head.

“Do you want to go back to Jude’s?” she whispers.

And as much as it crushes my heart, I shake my head. “I just need a minute to sort myself out.”

“What about the motel?” Whitney offers.

“She’s not going to the fucking motel,” Jude roars, and the pain in his voice tears me apart.

“She’ll be safe, brother. I’ll make sure of it.”

I know in the pause that follows that Jude is counting in his head, and I hate myself for it.